


along horizons

by norudeghosts



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Slow Build Horror, non-sexual nudity, supernatural mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26975782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norudeghosts/pseuds/norudeghosts
Summary: Felix feels like it should be a dark, stormy Halloween when it all happens.That’s how it goes in the movies, at least. There’s always some kind of significance, some kind of special meaning to the date something dramatic happens.Instead, it’s a mild night in May- there’s a chill to the air, but the sky is clear and the trees are lit by a nearly full moon.
Relationships: Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: Stray Kids SpookFest





	1. sink 'em in

**Author's Note:**

> hello delicious friends! this was written for prompt 63 of spookfest!
> 
> you may notice a distinct lack of portals or their mention in this chapter. suffice to say there is Plot and it has gotten away from me
> 
> **PLEASE be mindful of the 'chose not to use archive warnings' tag! There will be elements of this fic that remain untagged to allow suspense and surprise!**

Felix feels like it should be a dark, stormy Halloween when it all happens.

That’s how it goes in the movies, at least. There’s always some kind of significance, some kind of special meaning to the date something dramatic happens.

Instead, it’s a mild night in May- there’s a chill to the air, but the sky is clear and the trees are lit by a nearly full moon. The three of them are the last ones in the living room, and even they aren’t doing anything special; there’s a movie playing on the TV, some cheesy drama Hyunjin is enthralled with and insisted on staying up to finish it. Felix is more interested in the game on his phone, really, and he’s contemplating getting them more popcorn.

Then someone starts banging on the door.

Hyunjin jumps, almost spilling his drink on the table with a yelp.

“What the hell-?” Minho complains, twisting around to look toward the entryway as Hyunjin barely manages to right his glass in time. His grandparent’s old house is a good twenty minutes from the highway, and even if there was some kind of accident there were a lot of houses closer to go to for help; there shouldn’t be anyone out this far into the woods this late at night.

Before Felix can respond, closing his game so he can call the cops if needed, the banging starts back up, followed by an ear-splitting shriek. Hyunjin almost comes off the couch, and even Minho is frozen in place, eyes locked on the dark hallway leading to the front door.

“What the hell are you _watching?_ ” Changbin yells from the other direction, voice rough and slurred from sleep. A quick dart of his eyes confirms the rest of the house is stirring, Jeongin still half-asleep and hanging off Jisung’s shoulders as Chan pulls on a shirt. “It’s way too late to be playing that shit max volume.”

Hyunjin is on his feet in a flash and behind Changbin, grabbing onto him with shaking hands. “It isn’t- that’s _not_ the tv!” There’s a faint hint of hysteria in his tone, and Felix isn’t sure he blames him.

“What do you mean that’s not the tv? What else-” Jisung gets cut off by another shriek, this one even louder, and the pounding redoubling so much Felix is sure the windows have to be rattling.

All seven of them are staring at the entryway now, the sound only intensifying the longer they wait. It almost sounds like words, if he listens closely enough, but trying to focus on the sound just makes it rattle around painfully inside his skull, like the noise is an actual object trapped inside trying to get out. He bites his cheek between his teeth, the sharp pain making his head a little more clear.

“I’m going to check it out,” Chan declares, followed immediately by protests.

Minho’s is the loudest and most succinct. “That is _exactly_ how you die in horror movies!” Chan doesn’t pay him any attention as he crosses the living room, flicking on the light in the entryway. “Someone says ‘I’m going to check it out’ and splits off and gets killed! Just ignore it!”

Felix finds himself rising to his feet to trail after Chan, and sure enough, the rest of them do the same, clustering together near the doorway to the entrance hall. Hyunjin isn’t even watching, his face buried in Changbin’s shirt, and Felix hesitates with his finger on the call button of his phone. For some reason, he doesn’t want to actually _call_ the police, even if this situation feels like exactly the time he should.

The noise tapers off, like whatever’s causing it stops to catch its breath, and Chan takes a hesitant step toward the door.

Like that’s a trigger, the banging instantly returns, forceful enough he can _see_ the door rattling in its frame. Jisung jolts back, almost elbowing Felix in the gut as he startles. The loud cries follow immediately after, and Felix would _swear_ those were words.

Just... Not in any language he’s ever heard.

Before any of them can convince him to back off, Chan takes a deep breath, undoes the lock on the door, and yanks it open.

Felix isn’t sure who screams when the figure tumbles into the house, but he’s pretty sure it’s at least three of them. Chan’s apparently faster than his brain can process, and the older man manages to catch _whatever_ it is in his arms before it gets more than a few steps inside the house.

Then the situation actually _registers_ and Felix jolts forward, helping Chan guide the man- boy?- in his arms to kneel on the ground as his legs clearly give out. He struggles against them, still shrieking in _whatever_ language it is he’s speaking, and out of instinct Felix tries to grab his face to try and focus him.

He’s _filthy_ , clothes torn and some sort of black sludge smeared all over him, but the main thing that catches Felix’s attention is his eyes. They’re wide and wild, pupils totally blown, reminding him of some of the dogs that came through the shelter- nothing but white-hot fear. “It’s okay,” he finds himself saying without his brain providing any input. The boy stares at him silently for a long moment, his entire body still tense, but the thrashing has at least stopped. “You're fine, everything is fine, you’re safe now.”

It’s like watching something shatter in slow motion. The unadulterated panic gives way to something like relief, and suddenly the boy is _sobbing_ \- no tears start falling, but his entire body trembles with the force of the sobs, and Felix can’t do anything but awkwardly run his fingers through his hair. It’s dirty, like the rest of him, and tangled, but Felix doesn’t let it bother him for now.

When the boy twists away slightly, burying his face in Chan’s shirt, Felix glances back at the crowd assembled in the doorway. They all look as shell-shocked as he feels, _staring_ at the scene unfolding in the hallway.

Then Minho seems to come back to himself, pushing past the others and nudging Changbin. “Living room, all of you.” He calls out as he forces the door shut again, voice allowing no argument.

Not that anyone seems to be interested in arguing with him, the four of them following Changbin’s lead back into the living room. If Felix strains his ears, he can faintly hear Changbin trying to reassure them that everything is going to be okay.

He really hopes Changbin is right.

“Felix,” He snaps to attention at the sound of Chan’s voice, looking back. The boy has practically crawled into his lap, trembling so hard Felix is afraid he’s going to fall apart, and Minho has crouched down beside them, one hand hesitantly joining Felix’s where they’ve slipped down to the stranger’s shoulders. “Can you go get some towels and some clothes for him, so we can get him cleaned up a bit?”

Chan smiles thinly when he nods, turning his attention to Minho as Felix pushes himself to his feet. “Think we can get him to the dining room? I’m not sure he can stand and if he panics I can’t hold him.”

Felix hears Minho answer in the affirmative before he stumbles back out of the entranceway, trying to sort through his racing thoughts. He’s pretty sure he has an old pair of shorts and baggy shirt stashed away to use as pajamas that should hopefully fit the stranger. There’s some spare towels in the upstairs closet.

He grabs them on autopilot, barely even registering what he’s doing before he takes the stairs two at a time back down. Changbin is clearly doing his best to keep everyone calm, Hyunjin tucked into one side and Jisung into the other, but they still stare at him as he moves through the living room. Felix doesn’t know what to tell them.

Chan and Minho have successfully gotten the stranger into the dining room, Minho hovering a bit to the side as Chan kneels in front of the chair they’ve seated him in. He’s still shaking, though the sobs seem to have tapered off. Chan isn't quite touching him, but he's keeping his hands in front of him, clearly visible, and for one horrible second Felix actually _thinks_ about what could have sent him here in this state. His stomach cramps from the wave of nausea and he has to bite his tongue not to gag.

Minho takes two of the towels and disappears into the kitchen. The faint sound of running water is almost deafening in the quiet, broken only by the ragged breathing of the boy in the chair. Chan shoots him a tense glance, running his tongue over his teeth before turning his focus back to the stranger. "I promise you're safe here. Do you understand us?"

Although it's a few seconds delayed, the boy nods slowly.

Chan smiles, tight-lipped but warm. "Okay. Good. Can you tell us your name?"

There's a strangely _visceral_ reaction to that question- he jolts backward, eyes going wide and wild again, and Chan holds his hands up in a placating motion as he rocks back onto his heels. "Okay. That's fine." The water shuts off in the kitchen, and Minho returns with the towels, now clearly damp. He doesn't have to say a word, just offers it silently to Chan. "Can we clean you up a little? So we can see if you're hurt."

Felix doesn't miss the way the stranger's nostrils flare with his sharp inhale, watching Chan's every shift with eyes that look almost black even in the stark lighting of the room. From this distance, he can't tell if it's pupil or iris.

Still, after another long moment, they earn another slow nod, and Chan carefully takes one of the towels from Minho. Without thinking, Felix sets the clothes and last, dry towel on the table, taking the second towel from Minho. It's warm to the touch. Felix is inexplicably grateful that Minho made sure of that.

Something about this stranger just _screams_ that he needs even the smallest of kindnesses.

Chan moves first, carefully narrating both their movements in a soft voice. It kind of sounds like his ASMR videos, only this is less 'late night relaxation' and more 'trying desperately to keep a clearly-traumatized person comfortable'. In spite of his wariness, the stranger doesn't resist them, limbs basically going dead weight in their grasp. His skin is cool, verging on cold, but that isn't what strikes Felix as the most unusual.

There's a spot on the boy's arm. At first, he thinks it's dirt from falling or maybe a bruise. When the dirt clears away it becomes more obviously a fairly deep cut into the flesh. Upon closer inspection, though, Felix almost drops the towel in shock.

Underneath his skin, the flesh is a deep blue-purple color. Something that makes him think of the night sky, instead of the red and pink of blood and muscle. Indeed, the black sludge-like substance appears to be dripping out. _Bleeding_ out.

Even more bizarre is that, though too small to tell what it is, something inside the wound glimmers like stars.

He looks over at Chan, lips parting to speak, but before he can say a word, he sees the look in Chan's eyes. He's not the only one who's noticed, and so he bites his tongue, carefully doing his best to get as much of the dirt- blood?- off as he can without aggravating anything. There's a _lot_ , and his stomach turns at the thought of how badly he must have been hurt to be covered like this.

There's only so much they can do without getting too rough. Once they've gotten the worst of the gunk off, Chan carefully sets his towel on the table, Felix following suit. "Do you want to put on some clean clothes?" Those dark, dark eyes flick briefly to the clothes Felix had haphazardly dumped on the table, like he's debating if it’s worth it. After another pause, he nods again, although he doesn't make any move to grab the pile.

Chan shoots a quick glance at both him and Minho. "Do you want some help?" It's awkward to think about, but Chan seems to have it covered, and when the other gives a small, jerky nod, he doesn't show any sign it phases him. "Okay."

It feels too weird to just stand there while Chan carefully helps strip the ruined clothes off the stranger's body, so Felix pads over to Minho, who immediately settles a comforting arm around his waist. "You okay?" He asks softly, quiet so the other two don't hear.

Felix's chest warms a little, heart not quite so painful. "Yeah," he whispers back, leaning into Minho's side a little. He's _warm_ , a stark contrast to how chilly the boy had been, and the knot in Felix’s stomach tightens. He desperately wants to know what the _fuck_ is going on, but not at the expense of anyone's mental health, and their guest is clearly in no shape to be talking. Even just in his peripheral vision, Felix can see the cuts, bruises, and scars crisscrossing the stranger's body, the way his ribs stand out far too much and how every movement seems to be physically painful no matter how gentle and slow Chan is.

"Why don't you help me warm up some kimchi-jjigae for him." It's more of a statement than a suggestion, but Felix goes willingly, hoping to give them some sort of privacy.

The kitchen lights hum overhead when Minho flips them on, fluorescent bulbs casting everything in a stark glow. "Get a bowl?" Felix drifts over to the cabinet, pulling out a bowl on autopilot. He can sort of hear the others talking in the living room, words too low to make out but voices just on the edge of audible, and it’s both relieving and bizarre at the same time. The whole process seems to blur by, the only thing that really registers in Felix’s head being the faint sound of the microwave beeping to inform him the time is up. Then he has a bowl of warm stew in his hands, the ceramic just hot enough to be uncomfortable, and the two of them reenter the dining room.

Chan has successfully helped get the stranger changed, and even though Felix thinks he might be taller than most of them, around Hyunjin’s height maybe, he looks so _small_ in the baggy clothes. His collarbone is starkly pronounced under his skin where the shirt slips down, and his shins are just as battered and bruised as the rest of him- including a nasty series of slices that look like something from a wild animal near his heel. Felix is pretty sure a centimeter or two over and his achilles tendon would have been hit. He doesn’t _look_ any more comfortable, still shifting nervously in the chair and watching them all warily, but it has to have been somewhat of a relief to get out of the torn, filthy clothes.

Shooting them another thin smile, Chan shuffles to the side a little, giving Felix a clearer path to set down his cargo. “It’s not anything special, but we have some food for you. We don’t know when you last ate.”

The bowl clinks softly when Felix sets it down, the spoon bumping the edge. Staring at it with intense suspicion, the boy’s expression twists into a small frown, like he expects it to be poisoned or something.

Felix isn’t sure what overcomes him, but he picks up the spoon without thinking, getting a decent amount of the stew scooped inside, and sticks it in his mouth. He can see Chan and Minho both giving him odd looks from the corner of his eye, but he stays focused on the other, the way he watches every move Felix makes like a hawk. He swallows the mouthful of soup, probably not chewing as much as he should, but it goes down. “See? It’s just fine.” Chan’s eyes brighten with realization in his peripheral vision. The stranger’s gaze feels like a physical weight on his chest.

Then one scraped-up hand carefully reaches up and wraps around the spoon a little awkwardly, chilled fingers brushing lightly over Felix’s. He releases the metal easily, letting the boy pull it gently from his grasp.

The boy eats as cautiously as everything else he’s done so far, peeking up with furtive eyes every so often like he expects the food to be pulled away at any moment. He’s _clearly_ starving, between how unsettlingly skinny he is and the speed with which he devours the entire bowl, and Felix’s chest aches at the thought of what he must have been through to get like... _This_.

One of the cuts has started bleeding again. If ‘bleeding’ is even the right term. It almost looks more like tar, slowly oozing down his arm, and Felix isn’t sure if he should wipe it off or ignore it like the other is. At the very edge of his vision he sees Minho slip away toward the living room, probably to corral the rest of them upstairs, but Chan stays. Both of them stand in silence while the boy eats, the only sound the faint _clink_ of the spoon on the edge of the bowl.

Finally he sets the spoon down slowly, barely enough to make a noise, then looks back at the two of them. Some of the fear is gone from his eyes, but there’s still something dark and feral there; enough that Felix almost takes a step back in spite of himself.

“It’s late,” Chan finally speaks, shooting Felix an apologetic look when he startles slightly. “Why don’t we get you set up with a room for tonight? And then we can work things out in the morning, after you’ve had some rest?”

Their guest looks absolutely distressed at the suggestion, and for a second Felix can’t figure out _why_.

Then he thinks about the ragged sobs in the hallway. The way the boy curled into Chan. How he didn’t want to be left alone even to change.

“Do you want to stay with me?”

He’s not really sure what compels him to ask, but when those dark eyes focus on him with clear relief, he doesn’t regret it for a moment.

Chan takes the dish, shooing the two of them off with a gentle smile. The boy is a bit wobbly with his steps, like he isn’t sure how to balance on the smooth floor, and Felix takes his arm without thinking about it. His skin is _so_ cold, and even with most of the other’s weight on him he can barely notice it. It makes his stomach hurt.

Minho has the living room cleared by the time they make it there, which Felix is grateful for; he can only imagine how much more stressful it would be for the other to be stared at like some kind of freakshow. It’s enough of a challenge to guide him up the stairs, with the stranger as wobbly as a newborn calf.

They make it without any major incidents, and Felix flicks the light on in his room. It’s a bit of a mess, admittedly, but he doesn’t think that his companion is in any shape to judge him for it. The bed is a full size mattress at least, giving them both enough room. Helping the other take a seat on the edge of the bed, he tries to give him a reassuring smile. “Are you okay with me turning off the light?”

Another long pause, then a nod, and Felix steps away to give a quick yank to the pull chain on the ceiling fan. The room plunges into darkness, the only sound the soft swish of the fan overhead, and Felix uses the dim glow from the window to navigate back to the bed. The stranger almost seems confused for a moment, like he isn’t entirely sure what to _do_ with a bed, but he follows Felix’s lead in laying back against the pillows.

Even in the low light, he’s struck by the depth of the other’s eyes, wide and dark and deep. He wants to ask a million questions, really, but he isn’t sure where to even begin.

Then the boy’s mouth moves, the faintest of sounds leaving him, and Felix startles. “What?”

“Seung...min.” His voice is raw and hoarse, like he hasn’t used it in who knows how long. Years, maybe. The boy visibly swallows, lashes fluttering for a moment. They’re so close Felix thinks he could count them. “My name… Seungmin.”


	2. livewire

Seungmin doesn’t say anything else that night, and Felix doesn’t push. Honestly, he just finds himself grateful that Seungmin doesn’t seem to have any nightmares, practically dead to the world as soon as he drifts off.

And if Felix has to check in the middle of the night, make sure that he can feel faint puffs of breath and the hint of a pulse, that’s his business.

When he wakes up, there’s just a sliver of sunlight filtering through the curtains, reflecting off the bits of dust in the air, and Seungmin is already watching him. It’s jarring for a second before his brain fully kicks in and he remembers what happened last night, putting a smile on his face. “Hi, Seungmin. Did you sleep okay?” It feels weird, almost trite, to be asking about something like how he slept when Felix can still see the deepest gash in his arm. A little bit more sludge- blood?- has leaked out, staining the skin an almost purplish color, and it sets Felix’s teeth on edge.

For how harmless and soft he seems, there is clearly something _deeply wrong_ about Seungmin, and his instincts keep telling him to run.

Seungmin nods slowly in response to the question, and he tries to force the thought to the back of his mind. “That’s good. Do you want to try and eat breakfast?” Another nod, and Felix pushes himself out of the bed, ignoring the part of his brain screaming at him for turning his back on the other. It’s _fine_. Everything is fine. “I’ll go tell them you’re coming. Do you mind if I tell them your name?”

There’s a soft rustling behind him, and Felix glances over his shoulder. The blankets pool in Seungmin’s lap from where he’s sat up, and the morning light gentles Felix’s anxiety just a little bit. Apparently considering it, Seungmin nods jerkily, fingers tangling in the sheets. 

He forces a smile, letting his feet touch the chilly wooden floor and padding out into the hall. Out here he can smell _something_ cooking- eggs, he thinks- and most of the bedroom doors are slightly open. Hyunjin’s is the only one still shut tight, which isn’t terribly surprising; he’s always been a late sleeper. Although Felix is a little surprised he even _could_ sleep after last night.

The stairs are warmer, heat from the kitchen spiraling lazily into the rest of the downstairs. He can hear Minho singing, a little too loud and a little too off-key for it to be unintentional, and Felix would bet it’s him and Chan making breakfast. A glance over to the couch shows Jeongin and Hyunjin (who, if he had to guess, probably didn’t set foot in his room) curled up together on one end of it, which means the others are probably ‘helping’ with breakfast.

Sure enough, Jisung is sat on the counter, trying to steal bits of bacon as soon as Minho pulls them off the skillet. Changbin at least had the decency to drag a chair in, sitting backwards and leaning on the back as he watches Chan scramble eggs. He’s the first to notice Felix, sitting up straighter as soon as their eyes meet. “Hey, Lix.”

Like it’s a cue, all three of the others look in his direction, and Felix is almost impressed that Jisung manages to hold his tongue for at _least_ five seconds. “Oh good, you didn’t get serial murdered in the middle of the night.”

“Wouldn’t he have had to kill other people for me to be serial murdered?”

Jisung shrugs. “Not like we got a lot of backstory when he came screaming through the door.”

“You alright?” Chan’s voice is soft, comforting, and it makes Felix think of cleaning the dirt and blood off the stranger. Off _Seungmin_ , because he has a name now.

He nods, but doesn’t even try to resist going into the one-armed hug Chan offers, a small smile tugging on his lips when he feels a quick kiss pressed to the top of his head. “I’m okay,” He reassures, trying to force confidence he doesn’t feel into the words. “So’s he, I think.” Right. Name. “He talked to me last night. Just a little bit.”

That catches their attention, Minho stopping mid-flip of the bacon to glance over in surprise. “He did?”

Felix nods. It still feels surreal, the dark and the adrenaline crash mixing to make the memory hazy, but that voice is practically burned into his brain. “His name is Seungmin. He didn’t really say anything else, but he told me that.” Then, like an afterthought, what he _actually_ came down to say flits through his head. “He’s going to come down for breakfast.”

“And it’s almost ready, so go get him and send those two in here.” Felix mentally thanks Minho for how unflappable he always is, just pushing through even the most bizarre situations like they’re perfectly normal. “Make sure he washes his hands.” He reaches over to turn off the burner with an audible click, pointing at Jisung with the spatula in a vaguely-threatening manner. “Which _you_ need to do before you start touching the food.”

His feet carry him back into the living room on autopilot, carpet soft beneath his bare soles, and he very nearly forgets to tell the other two that breakfast is almost ready. Not that they would blame him, probably. This has them all shaken up. Offering him a closed-lip smile, Jeongin tugs Hyunjin after him toward the dining room, hand wrapped loosely around his wrist.

Heat supposedly rises, but the upstairs hallway is almost deathly cold compared to the rooms below. It makes sense, since the heat isn’t actually on, but the difference is almost enough to make him bolt back down to the warmth and light of the kitchen. Where he can pretend this whole nightmare wasn’t real and Seungmin- whatever he is- isn’t waiting inside his bedroom.

But playing pretend won’t solve anything.

Felix cracks the door initially, peeking through the gap; he’s not sure _why_ he’s so hesitant to enter the room, but he can write it off as not wanting to invade Seungmin’s privacy or something. It’s easier than trying to focus on the real reason. Seungmin has at least gotten out of the bed, but he doesn’t think that’s necessarily any better.

The sight of the other standing by the window is irrationally discomforting, enough he can feel goosebumps forming on his skin just watching. Those dark eyes stare out into the woods, dimly-lit by the morning sun on the horizon, and for a moment Felix wonders what, exactly, he’s looking at.

Looking for?

Then suddenly Seungmin is looking at _him_ , so sharply and swiftly Felix barely registers the movement, and he can’t help but startle a little. He does his best to hide it, forcing a smile onto his face and pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Breakfast is almost ready.” The only response he gets is a slow blink, but he pushes on. “Let’s go wash your hands and then head downstairs?”

Seungmin is surprisingly obedient, following after Felix like a lost puppy. He seems to understand the basics of what he’s doing, even if he’s slower at it than most people would be, letting the warm water run over his hands and rinse away the ugly grey suds. It’s kind of like taking care of his little cousins, if his little cousins were fully grown and mute and made him want to crawl out of his own skin in anxiety. But it isn’t Seungmin’s fault.

At least, he doesn’t think it is. Not when he remembers the abject _fear_ in his eyes when he collapsed in Chan’s arms last night. The scars and unhealed wounds criss-crossing his body.

The other does better on the stairs this morning, either from rest or slight familiarity, but he remains wobbly enough walking- probably from the barely-scabbed slashes to his legs- Felix instinctively keeps one hand on his arm. The skin is cold beneath his touch. He tries not to think about it.

Six sets of eyes settle on them when they enter the dining room, although Seungmin seems completely unaware of the staring. There’s two empty chairs between Chan and Changbin, something Felix is achingly grateful for; Chan helps him guide Seungmin to sit between them, and he takes the chair next to Changbin, leaning into the touch when the older throws an arm around his shoulders.

“Eat, you gremlins, before it gets cold and nasty.” Minho scolds, and it’s like the switch to flip everything back to _normal_ \- all of the others chattering and yelling over each other as they start piling food on their plates. For a moment, Felix is even ready to fall back into their usual habit of teasing Chan about how much food he's taking.

Then it registers that a good portion of that food is being set carefully on the plate in front of Seungmin; not an absurd amount, but just a little of everything. The man in question has stayed as still as a statue the entire time he's been seated, his eyes are flickering back and forth almost frantically, and Felix finds himself wondering if this is all just too much this soon after… Whatever happened to him.

Their eyes meet for a split second, and the question dies in his throat. He isn't sure _why_. The same way he isn't sure why Seungmin sets him so on edge, or why he feels strangely compelled to help him anyways. Maybe it's for the same reasons he's studying to be a vet.

He glances at Seungmin’s arm on instinct. Where the skin is split open, jagged-edged and colored deep as the night sky.

Maybe it's something less benign.

Like he can sense the turn to Felix’s thoughts, the arm around his shoulders tightens for a moment, dragging his attention back to Changbin. There's no judgment in the older man's stare, just a hint of concern. "Everything okay?"

In all honesty, Felix isn't sure. Everything still feels off kilter, even if everyone is doing their best to act normal in spite of the disruption to their lives.

He forces a smile on his face. "Everything is fine," he reassures. He doesn't know if it’s Changbin or him he's trying to soothe.

When everyone has their food, Seungmin finally moves, taking the fork Chan offers him with a slow hand. He doesn't practically inhale the food like he did the night before, which Felix takes as a good sign. He thinks. Everything about Seungmin seems almost sleepy, like a film played back at half speed.

But he remembers the suddenness with which Seungmin had looked at him earlier, how fast and unnatural the movement was.

Breakfast passes without any incidents, just shockingly normal conversation for their group- it's loud, like always, and Seungmin looks startled at times, but that's all.

Changbin and Jisung lose the traditional rock-paper-scissors game to decide who does the dishes, and the two of them complain loudly the entire time they collect the plates. Minho starts ushering the others off into the living room, making faces when Hyunjin starts begging to watch the next episode of his new drama.

Seungmin shifts a little, eyes drifting around the room. He's clearly uncomfortable, and one of the cuts on his arm has started… Bleeding? Leaking? Again.

"Do you want to take a shower or something? Get cleaned up?" Felix isn't sure what compels him to make the offer to the other, but Seungmin nods slowly, and he pushes himself up from the table. "The one downstairs is a little bigger. It might be easier for you."

Seungmin follows his example, chair legs scratching over the floor with an uncomfortably loud sound. Felix barely manages not to flinch. 

“You got this, Lix?” Chan’s touch to his shoulder is feather soft, just enough to grab his attention, and Felix really wants to ask for help. The older always seems to know how to keep a situation calm and handle anything unexpected.

But the dark circles under his eyes are enough for Felix to shake his head. “Go take a nap or something. We’ll be fine.”

‘Fine’ is definitely a stretch once he gets Seungmin to the bathroom, given that the man seems to have no idea what to do with the water taps and stares at the showerhead like it’s a snake coiled to strike. Felix busies himself with collecting a towel (an older one that’s already a little ruined) and soap for the other, trying to ignore the weight of Seungmin’s eyes on him.

He should have asked Chan for help.

“Do you like your water hot or just warm?” He asks more to break the oppressive silence than for a real answer; Seungmin hasn’t spoken another word since last night, not even when the others tried to include him in conversation at breakfast. Sure enough, Seungmin remains quiet, expression blank as Felix fiddles with the tap and water begins to rush out. “We’ll start with just warm and if you’re too cold you can turn it up, okay?”

When he turns around, Seungmin is still just standing there, watching the water pour down into the drain with a strange expression on his face.

Felix isn’t sure if it’s curiosity or fear.

“Seungmin?”

Dark eyes snap up to his, and for a moment his adrenaline spikes, heart leaping into his throat, and he almost takes a step back. The feeling of the cold porcelain of the shower bumping his elbow knocks him back to reality. “The water should be warm in a minute. Do… Do you want me to stay?”

The nod of Seungmin’s head is almost imperceptible, but it’s enough to send anxiety flooding through his body. He does his best to hide it. “Okay.”

Helping Seungmin get out of the clothes is at least easier than in. He's still stiff, no doubt about that, but movement doesn't seem to be as painful now that the other has had some rest. But the sight of his skin under the fluorescent lights is enough to make bile form at the back of Felix's throat. The damage is even more obvious like this.

Behind the barrier of the clothing, the other's flesh is mottled with purple-black bruises, some so fresh the color hasn't settled in, others ringed in sickly yellow as they struggle to heal. Dozens of cuts and scars, varying in age and severity, cross over his body like a labyrinth; if Felix squints hard enough, he thinks there may even be a pattern to them. Not anything he can make sense of, but… Something that seems less than random. Like they were intentional.

Like someone did this to Seungmin on _purpose_.

He does his best not to stare.

Seungmin doesn't seem to have any sense of shame about his nudity, and he's not sure if that makes it better or worse. Felix tries to ignore it, focusing on making sure the other gets the worst of the grime off- and just like earlier, Seungmin seems to understand the rough basics, but not much else. Shampoo seems to elude him, which leads to Felix standing barefoot in the shower doorway, doing his best to work through that tangled mass of hair without hurting him.

Not that Seungmin shows any sign of pain. His expression remains completely blank no matter how hard Felix accidentally tugs, sending sparks of anxiety up his spine.

Nothing about this feels anything close to normal, which is already weird enough. And the more he helps the boy, the more little things he can't help noticing. The thick black substance that leaks from any open wound and barely thins out under the water. How his breathing seems so shallow and slow. And he's almost entirely sure Seungmin's ribcage seems to open up too far up his chest, as if his clavicle isn't quite right.

But something makes him stay. Makes him help rinse out the shampoo, make sure that Seungmin is as clean as he's going to get, then helping wrap him in the largest and softest of the towels. "It's okay," Felix reassures quietly, squeezing the water out of Seungmin's hair with a second towel, and finds he isn't sure which of them he's comforting. Seungmin, or himself.


End file.
